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*taps microphone*

Okay, so I've been going off about Dungeon Crawler Carl for months now and I do not see it stopping at any point, so let's see if I can entice one or two of you to join in my madness.

DCC is Lit RPG and written like a video game come to life, from the point of view of the contestants trapped within the game. There are levels to conquer and loot boxes and quests and an AI running things that has a very tenuous hold on stability to begin with and doesn't keep it for very long.

Carl is just... a guy. He's just a guy with a traumatic backstory that he's squished deep down inside himself because he doesn't like drama and he thinks he's doing just fine because it's done, you know? It's in the past, can't change it, can't hurt him anymore.

(It can hurt him. It does hurt him.)

The world as we know it is destroyed in a split second, Carl surviving by mere happenstance and the only reason he goes into the dungeon is that he will literally freeze to death otherwise. At no point is this guy searching for glory or thinking he's a savior, he's just trying to survive another day. That Carl happens to have his ex-girlfriend's prize-winning tortie Persian cat with him is a coincidence - and it turns out to be his major lifeline in the entire series. Princess Donut is his partner in crime, his bestie for life and if he ever loses her, he will lose everything. Goodbye to the last vestiges of his sanity.

The first couple levels are pretty contained, Carl & Donut learning the ropes and how to survive every encounter with increasingly powerful enemies who want nothing more than to see them dead, the eyes of the universe and the corporations running the shitshow ever focusing on them and trying to eke out as much profit as possible at the same time.

Then they meet other survivors - both good and misled - and the beauty of humanity comes out, the sacrifices they are willing to make for one another, the knowledge that they aren't likely to survive, but they make the right choices anyway because dying might be bad, but letting each other down is worse.

The secondary characters grow in complexity with every level. Where it was once just Carl & Donut, it becomes dozens of characters, from all over the world, all of them gifted in their own way, all of them fighting as best they can, some of them betrayed, some of them dying, some of them choosing to go out on their own terms. Men and women and animal alike, they are individual and committed to the greater good.

Matt Dinniman has written a series that takes an emotional toll on its readers: pain, loss, horror, humor, desperation, walking through life with an unrelenting grief. There are dick jokes and drug-dealing, lava-spitting llamas and riffs on Wonderwall and lines like: Trauma does that, I thought. It's an explosion with your heart at the center. It changes everything all at once.

Also, there are velociraptors.

And a decapitated, talking sex doll head that wants to kill everyone's mothers.

It's a LOT of stuff going on, all right?

And just as you think the story can't get any better, enter Jeff Hays. Our audiobook narrator, our man of a hundred distinct voices. Good god, he's phenomenal. I've listened to so many books and while there are some very talented narrators out there, Jeff Hays leaves them in the motherfucking dust. I honest to god thought he was using an app to manipulate his voice for different characters until I saw him narrating in real time and I was utterly blown away by his talent.

[Image ID: a twitter thread of 31+ tweets spanning 10 images, dated 22nd May 2017.

Image 1: a tweet by Dr. Paul (@/DrPnygard) that reads On this day in 1967, a show featuring a kindly man in a cardigan & blue sneakers debute- [tweet cuts off]. Included is a photo of Mr Rogers, a white American man with bushy dark eyebrows and greying straight hair, looking over his shoulder while seated obscured by a colourful red object.

This tweet is replied to by Anthony Breznican (@/Breznican) who’s 31-tweets-long thread begins by saying 50 years … I have a story to tell about this man.

Image 2: A lot of people are sharing this quote after the heartbreak in Manchester. It’s also the 50th anniversary of Mr Roger’s Neighborhood. 1/

The tweet includes a black-and-white photo of Mr Rogers smiling to camera with the following quote added: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers.- You will always find people who are helping.’” -Mr Rogers

Fred Rogers was from Pittsburgh, my hometown, and my generation grew up loving this man, who taught us to be kind above all. 2/

Image 3: Fred Rogers was the real thing. That gentle soul? It was no act. 3/

As I got older, I lost touch with the show, which kept running through 2001. But in college, one day, I rediscovered it… 4/

I was having a hard time. The future seemed dark. I was struggling, lonely, dealing with a lot of broken pieces and not adjusting well. 5/

I went to Pitt and devoted everything I had to the school paper, hoping that would propel me into some kind of worthwhile future. 6/

Image 4: It was easy to feel hopeless. One span was especially bad. Walking out of the dorm, I heard familiar music: 🎶 Won’t you be my neighbor… 7/

The TV was playing in an empty common room. Mr Rogers was there, asking me what I do with the mad I feel. (l had lots to spare. still do) 8/

It feels silly to say - it felt silly then - but I stood mesmerized. His show felt like a cool hand on a hot head. I left feeling better. 9/

Days later, I get in the elevator at the paper to ride down to the lobby. The doors open. Mr Rogers is standing there. For real. 10/

Image 5: I can’t believe it. I get in and he nods at me. I do back. I think he could sense a geek-out coming. But I kept it together. 11/

Almost. 12/

The doors open, he lets me go out first. I go, but turn around. “Mr Rogers… I don’t mean to bother you. But I wanted to say thanks! 13/

He smiles, but this has to happen to him every 10 feet. ‘Did you grow up as one of my neighbors? I felt like crying. Yeah. I was. 14/

Image 6: Opens his arms, lifting his satchel for a hug. “It’s good to see you again neighbor: I got to hug Mr Rogers, y'all! 15/

I pull it together. We’re walking out and I mention liking Johnny Costa (he was the piano player on the show.) We made more small talk. 16/

As he went out the door, I said (in a kind of rambling gush) that I’d stumbled on the show again recently, when I really needed it. 17/

So I just said, “Thanks for that.” Mr Rogers nodded. He paused. He undid his scarf. He motioned to the window, & sat down on the ledge. 18/

Image 7: This is what set Mr Rogers apart. No one else would’ve done this. He goes, “Do you want to tell me what was upsetting you? 19/

So I sat. I told him my grandfather had just died He was one of the few good things I had. I felt adrift. Brokenhearted. 20/

I like to think I didn’t go on and on, but pretty soon he was telling me about his grandfather & a boat the old man bought him as a kid. 21/

Mr Rogers asked how long ago Pap had died. It was a couple months. His grandfather was obviously gone decades. 22/

Image 8: He still wished the old man was here. Wished he still had the boat. You’ll never stop missing the people you love, Mr Rogers said. 23/

The grandfather gave Mr Rogers the row boat as reward for something. I forget what. Grades, or graduation. Something important. 24/

He didn’t have either now, but he had that work ethic, that knowledge that the old man encouraged with his gift. 25/

“Those things never go away,” Mr. Rogers said. I’m sure my eyes looked like stewed tomatoes. 26/

Image 9: Finally, I said thank you. And apologized if I made him late for an appointment. “Sometimes you’re right where you need to be,” he said. 27/

Mr Rogers was there for me then. So here’s this story, on the 50th anniversary of his show, for anyone who needs him now 28/

I never saw him again. But that “helper” quote? That’s authentic. That is who he was. For real. 29/

Image 10: When Mr. Rogers died in 2003, I sat at my computer with tears in my eyes. But I wasn’t crying over the death of a celebrity 30/

I was mourning the loss of a neighbor. 31/end

I remember hearing that, as a little kid, and not being able to believe it. And he kept saying it anyway.

Decades later, after much of my own therapy to undo the learning that led to a pre-school kid not believing that she was lovable just the way she was, I was watching an episode. I don’t remember what prompted me to seek it out, but I do remember bursting into tears when I heard that again.

Because it felt a little easier to believe. And because I realized, as an adult, how important it was to hear that as a kid. Repeatedly. Even if I couldn’t believe it. As a kid, I couldn’t trust that he meant it. As an adult, it was so clear that he did. And I was so grateful that he had planned those seeds. They took awhile to germinate, and still need constant tending. And I’m so grateful that was modeled somewhere for me.

collab thingy with my bud @rjurry ! he did the sketch i did the rest

This is not ship art Btw, they are just cute

companion fairy: no you mustnt lose your temper my lady

gorilla soul trapped in chair: buy more cigars